Chopsticks, Chinese Food and One Compelling Vulcan
by Bride of Spock
Summary: Spock can't handle chopsticks. Jim can. Jim is also oblivious to Vulcan biology, and how could he assist with chopsticks without touching Vulcan hands? Can Spock hide what is happening to him? Slash.
1. Chopsticks and Chinese Food

**A/N: Sorry if Spock is OOC, but my fangirl heart needed to write something Spirky. **

**P.S. Kirk is unaware that Vulcan hands are erogenous and sensitive zones in this fic. So when he grabs Spock's hands...;)**

***excessive fangirling here***

"I - am finding it increasingly difficult to - consume this - cuisine," Spock said distractedly, fumbling with the chopsticks.

Jim laughed. "Something you're _struggling_ with, Spock? I would never have thought it of you."

"Not struggling, Captain, merely failing to pick it up as rapidly as I should." Spock was frowning, obviously puzzled.

Jim lifted a hand as though to help, but Spock twitched his hand away. "I do not require assistance, Captain," he insisted.

"Jim, not Captain," Kirk reprimanded. "We're in my quarters, not on duty."

"My apologies, Jim."

"No need to apologise, Mr Spock."

There was a pause, during which Jim leant back in his chair, smirking as he surveyed Spock's struggles with the chopsticks, before Spock spoke up.

"If I am not to call you Captain, why do you insist on addressing me formally?" he asked.

"Human habit, Spock," Jim said, waving a hand lazily. He sat properly again, and began to eat noodles perfectly, as though mocking his Vulcan friend, who observed him for a minute or two, and tried to replicate the way Jim was holding the chopsticks, to no avail. Jim smiled slightly.

"Here," he said, leaning over the table and grasping Spock's hand. Spock jumped like he'd been burned. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"It - is quite alright, Jim," Spock said. A flush of green crept up his neck and spread across his cheeks.

Jim had still not let go.

Jim began to move Spock's fingers around on the chopsticks, frowning as he tried to find the correct position. Spock's breath had hitched, and he was hoping that Jim hadn't heard him.

"Are you okay, Spock?" Jim asked obliviously, noting his friend's discolouration. "You're going green."

He had still not let go.

"My blood is copper based, Jim," Spock pointed out, "It is inevitable I will 'go green', just as humans experience the rush of blood to the face at times. It is no different to you 'going red'." He was blatantly ignoring the tingling sensation in his fingers and keeping his barriers up so he didn't accidentally perform a mind meld, from which there would be no return.

Spock had not told a soul he was experiencing illogical feelings for his Captain. He called it 'being emotionally compromised'. Kirk would call it _love._

**A/N: This was so fun to write:3**

**Next chapter up soon! ^.^**

**Also, let's pretend stereotypical Chinese food exists in the future, m'kay? ;D**


	2. One Compelling Vulcan

**A/N: Spock's a little OOC. Sorry.**

"So why can't you use chopsticks? Most people pick it up really quickly."

"Presumably because they are unfamiliar to me. It is illogical to consume food using small pieces of wood when an easier option is accessible, i.e. knife and fork."

Kirk grinned. "You're just saying that 'cause you can't use them."

He rearranged Spock's fingers again (Spock had flushed darker and darker shades of green and his breath was hitching at every touch), until he finally drew his hand away. Spock let out a huge breath. "Okay, now try."

Spock found he missed the warm feeling of Jim's hand on his. He found he liked Jim kissing him. It sent warm tingles through his body. He wanted to feel that again. Spock decided he would like to discover Jim's feelings, as his behaviour was too erratic and illogical for mere friendship, surely?

On the bridge, he would insist on always touching Spock in some way, whether it be a light brush as they passed, or a hand on his shoulder, or the way he always managed to be close to and in physical contact with Spock. Spock's observations led him to believe that Jim was 'flirting' with him. A human term, it meant that Jim was trying to attract Spock's attention as a potential mate.

Spock looked at the chopsticks in his hands with small confusion, and tentatively lifted them towards the bowl. "No, not like that," Jim said softly, and suddenly he was behind Spock and grasping his wrists. The shock of his quick movement made the mind meld inevitable.

_Desire. _

_Confusion._

_Awe. _

_Rapture._

All these feelings were flung into carefully constructed barriers, breaking them to pieces, leaving Spock's mind vulnerable to releasing the emotions he'd so carefully suppressed.

Apparently Jim's mind was as nosy as the man himself, and he continued his journey into the recesses of Spock's mind, opening things Spock had put into boxes long ago. Spock tried to push him out, but Jim was resisting.

He could feel Jim getting closer to the box he had tucked beneath all the others. Spock tried harder to block him out, but Jim was digging in his metaphorical heels.

Jim found the box. He opened it. He withdrew from Spock's mind very quickly.

"You were instructing me on the handling on chopsticks, Captain?" Spock said, keeping his voice level, but he was blushing furiously.

"Spock..."

"Jim?"

"Spock, turn around."

Spock turned slowly in his seat, his heart rate accelerating as he imagined the look of utter disgust on his friend's face.

Spock searched his face carefully. It wasn't there.

Jim was gazing at him with a look that Spock could only describe as devotion. Spock looked into Jim's eyes and found the same emotion there. He kept his face smooth, careful not to betray any of his own emotions for fear that this was all a joke, because Jim couldn't possibly harbour the same feelings for him, but -

Spock's train of thought abruptly ended when Jim leant forward and pressed their lips together.

* * *

For his first human kiss, Spock reflected that it was nice. He had preferred the many that had followed it, however.

And the many still to come.

**A/N: I literally can't write anything but fluff. This was supposed to be a cutesy fic, but fluff _EVERYWHERE_. Gawd.**

**If you're not dead from fluff overload, reviews would be great! ;3**


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